


Cold Hands, Cold Heart

by ih3artgerm, tsukidrama



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Character Study, Cuddling, Cunnilingus, Emotional Baggage, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Sex, F/F, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, Lesbian Sex, Porn with Feelings, Scissoring, not quite Porn With Plot i feel but more like
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-27
Updated: 2021-01-04
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:07:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28367391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ih3artgerm/pseuds/ih3artgerm, https://archiveofourown.org/users/tsukidrama/pseuds/tsukidrama
Summary: When everyone else sneaks out to save Ymir and Krista on the mountain during the 104th’s trainee days, you choose to stay with Annie.
Relationships: Annie Leonhart & Reader, Annie Leonhart/Reader
Comments: 28
Kudos: 314





	1. Together Alone

**Author's Note:**

> tsuki: 14 year old me fell so hard for Annie, and the crush never faded. back in the day i wrote down a million fic ideas and even lines to use, sometimes straight up passages…. but never a complete work because i was embarrassed, and over time i had so many ideas that i didn’t even know where to start. forever grateful for my old friend aaron who used to write fic for me about her. i miss you!!!

“If you go by yourselves, you’ll be in the same pickle as Krista.” Reiner’s voice echoes throughout the quiet lobby of the barracks as he speaks. Equipment jingles as someone shifts a pack of gear on their shoulders. 

“In a search, the more eyes, the better.” Bertholdt adds. 

You lift your head to look out the window. It stormed so heavily that flurries of snow blocked the light of the moon. The door to the room you’re assigned to opens and closes, and the sound of footsteps recedes into the distance. 

The realization hits you that you’re now alone, with just one other still figure sitting alone on a bottom bunk two beds down from yours. 

Another door closes quietly in the hallway, and two more sets of footsteps scamper out of earshot. Muffled voices from the lobby begin to overlap, and you tune out whatever they are saying to concentrate on silently twisting the doorknob. You push the heavy wooden door open, slowly so that it doesn’t creak. 

As you peek out of the cracked door frame, you watch as each of the recruits gather in the lobby, backs turned to the dormitories and uninterested in anything but the task at hand. 

Slowly and silently, you close the door. The crack of firelight that had illuminated a sliver of the wall disappears, and the only light in the room comes from the dim moonlight streaming through sheer curtains. The snow falling outside dims the already low light to almost pitch darkness. 

It doesn’t take your eyes a very long time to adjust. You walk around the empty wooden bunk beds, the sheets thrown back on most of them. Some had even stuffed pillows underneath the sheets - though anyone who took a second look would know it was not a body. 

The one bed that was occupied, the second to last against the wall, had the covers pulled back as well, but the girl on top sat with her back against the rickety headboard, pillow thrown to the foot of the bed. Her light hair is free of its usual updo, and hangs loosely around her face. Ice blue eyes catch in the moonlight as they meet yours, and you feel your heart in your throat. 

You come to a stop at the foot of the bed next to hers, and your fingers grip the post of the bunk with white knuckles. 

“You didn’t go,” you say, though it’s more as if you’re thinking aloud. 

“No shit,” she responds, and otherwise doesn’t react. 

Your feet shuffle awkwardly. 

“I didn’t go either,” you say. Immediately, you feel like it was a stupid thing to say. 

Annie nods. “I see that,” she notes flatly. She scoots closer to the side of the bed, and tucks her legs underneath her body to make room. When she speaks, her voice is quiet, and she doesn’t look at you. 

“You can come over here, you know.” 

Her words light a fire under you, and you feel yourself walking to the edge of the bed. Sitting towards the middle on the opposite side of the bed from Annie, you pull your feet up from the ice cold floor in a position that mirrors her own. She won’t look at you still, likely stewing in her chagrin caused by the fact that she had to ask for your attention. 

Despite her invitation, you never know what to say when the two of you are alone like this. Often, you stood together off to the side during training and teamwork exercises. You sat together at mealtimes and often spoke about the mundane everyday things that happened to you, albeit not in great detail. A few times, the two of you snuck out of the dorms together, and when you were truly alone, she would let down her defenses and speak more freely than you had ever seen her, only to have her pretend like it didn’t happen even minutes later. 

Of course, you had grown used to the silence between you as well. You had learned that the best way to get through to her was to let her come to you. No amount of pleading or guessing tempted her to reveal anything she didn’t want to share with you. Annie was not known for speeches, but the emotions in her eyes were clear when you looked into them, albeit clouded and often splintered just like the ice she tried to surround her heart with. 

If she didn’t want you there, you wouldn’t be there. You wouldn’t have been there with her so many times before. 

It’s quiet for a good long while, and you breathe so shallowly that you hardly feel your chest moving at all in some entirely unnecessary attempt not to disturb her further. Your heartbeat quickens as you gaze reverently at the sliver of moonlight outlining her side profile. The illuminated strands that fall across her face glow almost silver. 

The silence is suddenly broken, and for a moment, it makes your heart stop beating entirely. 

“Did you only stay because of me?” Annie asks. She absently tugs her sock up to cover her exposed ankle, and in the silence that follows you struggle to calm yourself. 

You shrug, trying to act casual. “Yes and no.” 

“Oh?” 

Your heartbeat quickens again, and you know it sounds like bullshit even before it comes out. 

“Yes, I knew you weren’t going to go out into a snowstorm in the middle of the night. But no, I didn’t stay just because you did.” 

“So why did you stay?” Annie’s eyebrow arches. 

You shrug again, and avert your eyes. 

You definitely stayed only because it meant you would be alone with Annie, but there was no way you were going to admit that to her. It was no surprise when everyone but her silently got out of bed and changed into their coats — and you would have likely succumbed to the peer pressure of wanting to be seen as a decent person if there wasn’t something else on your hormone-addled, infatuated teenage mind. 

“Maybe I’m selfish,” you wonder aloud, and do not clarify the nature of the selfishness. Your heart beats in your throat as she moves her hand to rest just centimeters beside your leg. 

Annie nods, and shifts so that she’s sitting crossed-legged, and has shifted half a foot closer to you. 

“Me too,” she says, her eyelashes casting shadows across her cheeks as she looks down. 

You let your own hand rest next to hers near your leg, but you can’t gather the courage to let them touch. You look away, and you can sense her do the same moments later. 

Annie’s fingers stretch across your hand, and the contrast of your relatively warm skin is marked by the ice of her fingertips. 

“Your hands are freezing,” you gasp, and suddenly gain the courage to grasp both of the freezing appendages in your own hands. You cup your hands and let out a warm exhale out over her skin. You gently rub the backs of her hands and her long, slender fingers. She’s not wearing her ring, but there’s a slight indentation on her finger where it normally sits. 

“Do you always get so cold?” you ask, concerned. 

Annie shakes her head, and you could swear you saw the faintest ghost of a smile. “It never got so cold in my hometown,” she explains. Her fingers twitch as the stiffness begins to ebb away as warmth returns to her fingers. “This kind of cold is new to me.” 

You smile. “I forget you’re from the south. It’s crazy that the winters are so much milder in Wall Maria. Someday maybe you can take me there and I’ll see what all the fuss is about.”

Annie ignores your comment. “You’re such a dreamer. Maybe you shouldn’t listen to what Eren says quite so much.” 

“Hey, you have to admit that he’s convincing. You don’t have any faith in Humanity’s spear?” 

Annie shakes her head. Her hands slip out of yours. 

“I think it’s ridiculous.” 

Emptiness returns to her expression, and you attempt to redirect. 

“We can talk about something else if you want,” you offer. 

Annie shrugs one of her shoulders and doesn’t respond. 

Instead of talking, you reach into her lap to once again grasp her hand in your own. She looks up at you, her eyes shining pale blue. Despite the unreadable expression on her face, her fingers tighten around your hand. 

Before you know it, she’s used her momentum to pull you forward by your hand, and you allow your body to follow. Your faces sit a fraction of an inch apart from one another, and in contrast to the cold air, you can feel the soft warm puffs of her breath against your cheeks, lips, and chin. 

This isn’t the first time Annie has done this — pull you close, with her lips so close that any movement from either of you would cause them to touch. Yet despite the urgency her actions convery, her fingers tremble in yours. She glances up at you with a look in her eye akin to nervousness, and leans her forehead into yours, daring you to make the first move. 

Often, you did. In the beginning, it was always you who kissed her first. Every time, she kissed you back immediately, and every time with a passion and intensity that doesn’t match up with the hesitancy she always displayed moments before. 

She would twist your hair in her fingers, and kiss your lips, your cheeks, your nose, and down your jawline and neck. She would bury her head into your neck, tucking her chin into your shoulder. Tiny kisses would litter your neck and shoulder, spewing from her lips like prayers. 

She would kiss your lips once again, and cups your face in her hands before wrapping her arms around you. Sometimes, you would stop abruptly when you felt tears moisten your lips, and you would grasp her shoulders as she sits there sobbing, and apologizing over and over again. As much as you begged for an explanation, she would just shake her head, lips pressed together. 

Sometimes, she would keep her eyes screwed shut, brow furrowed in a distant yet poignant expression as she kissed you desperately. She would throw her arms around you, pulling you tightly to her while her lips move silently to form words against your skin that she doesn’t dare to vocalize. You end up on your back with her straddled on top of you, kissing you deeply and boldly, until she ends up curled against your chest, deflated but content as you stroke her hair. 

And sometimes, (fortunately) very rarely, her eyes would fly open, and when you looked at her she was suddenly unrecognizable. Hatred and disgust radiated from her gaze as she bores a hole through your skull, going completely rigid in your arms. In the thrice you’ve seen it now, it never fails to bite into your soul. Though she doesn’t push you away, it effectively kills the closeness of the moment, and you’re left feeling more distant than ever, even as she clings to you. 

Once in a blue moon, you would wait until she kisses you first. The times when you feel paralyzed, limbs trembling and butterflies sweeping up a storm within you, she would ever so gently touch her lips to yours, almost trembling, so lightly that you can barely feel it until you kiss her back. These times, when she takes the lead, you see a side to her that you never would have expected before you got to know her — really got to know her. This side of her was soft and hesitant, but so desperately seeking affection. Even love, though she would viciously deny any accusations of such a nature. 

Annie’s hands wander to grip the edges of your sleeves. Her ice cold fingers brush against your warm skin, and you can’t help but shiver. Somehow you find the strength to press your lips back against hers. When Annie’s tongue swipes against your lower lip, you go completely rigid. 

Your lips tremble against hers, and you curse your hesitancy tonight. Usually, once you were alone, and Annie’s hesitancy faded, yours went with it. But for some reason, you feel as frozen as the rain that drifts to gather atop the earth in muffling, cold blankets. 

As softly and silently as she leaned into you, she now pulls away, and looks off to the side. 

“You don’t want to,” Annie sighs, and even though it isn’t a question, you feel compelled to give her an answer. 

“—I do want to,” you interrupt, “Can I sit next to you?” 

She looks away in embarrassment, but stretches her legs out so that you have room to sit beside her. You crawl up the bed and flip to sit next to her against the headboard, now facing away from the window in the same direction she is. As you move up, you take a fistful of blankets with you to cover your legs where your thin flannel nightgown rides up. 

Annie grasps the blanket from your hand to pull them up to her waist. You look over to notice her shivering. 

“You’re cold,” you say. She doesn’t respond, and just sticks her hands underneath the blankets in her lap. 

After a few seconds, you gently touch your fingers to her shoulder. 

“Can I hug you?” Your bravery is fleeting, but you squeak out the request regardless. 

Annie goes rigid. “What?” 

Your cheeks burn, and your hand falls back down beside you. 

“C-can I give you a hug?” you repeat, and then quickly try to justify it in a way that doesn’t make you seem as desperate as you are. “Because y-you’re cold.” 

“Oh,” Annie mutters, and if it had been any brighter in the room, you might’ve seen that she was blushing too, “yeah, okay.” 

She leans into your shoulder from the side, resting the back of her head on your shoulder and her forehead against your cheek. Your arms wrap around her shoulders, hands rubbing up the sides of her arms to give her warmth. Annie pulls the blankets up to her chin, and curls her legs up so that she can swing them over your lap. You nuzzle your face into her hair as you shift to hold her more tightly in your arms. 

“This is humiliating.” Annie says after a few seconds. 

You nod against her head. “I know.”

Despite her apparent humiliation, Annie doesn’t try to break free from your grasp. She doesn’t even resist, though she doesn’t relax either. Her eyes slip closed after a few seconds. 

You don’t want to disturb any amount of peace she happens upon, so as usual, you wait. For as long as she stays in her moment of comfort, you hold her close. When she finally opens her eyes and looks up at you, she whispers softly into your skin. 

“Lie down with me?” 

You feel the corner of your lips twitch into a smile, and your heart swells. Annie’s cheeks burn pink. 

“Because it’s cold,” she clarifies. You nod, and press your lips together so she doesn’t see how much what she instead doesn't say excites you. 

You raise an arm above you to hold the blankets up, just for long enough so that the two of you can shift and stretch your legs down into the freezing blankets. Annie gasps, and shivers so violently that her breath shakes. One of your arms wraps around her waist, and you press your legs against hers. It offers little warmth, but you figure it’s better than nothing. 

“It’ll warm up,” you whisper in her ear, tucking your head into her shoulder, “just give it a minute.” 

Annie nods, and though you do your best to warm her, it doesn’t seem to make much of a difference. She’s so small that she’s still cold as ice, and you aren’t enough to supply body heat for two people. 

“Do you have your hoodie?” you ask. “I’ll get it for you.” 

She groans and shakes her head. “I left it in the locker room.” 

You begin to sit up, and mentally prepare yourself to face the cold again. Before you can get more than halfway up, she flips around and grabs your wrist. 

“No, I don’t need it,” she begs, “leave it in there. Don’t go.” 

If you don’t stay because of her asking, you stay when you notice tears shining in her eyes. You let yourself fall back down beside her. When you lie down, she curls up to you face-to-face with her body flush against yours. Your heartbeat quickens when you feel her the tip of her nose brushes against your cheek. 

“Hey,” you comfort her by rubbing her back, “I won’t go anywhere.”

Her legs jam in between yours at the knees to steal the body heat you had been conserving between them. She nods. Even though you’re right up against her, you can’t see her face. Her breathing is still uneven, but it isn’t trembling as it was a minute ago. 

Annie inhales deeply, and holds it for a moment before breathing out of her nose to tickle your cheek. 

Her voice is barely a whisper. “Why did you really stay here?” 

You blink, and turn your head away from Annie to stare at the ceiling. 

“I already told you. I’m selfish.” 

Annie’s fingers touch the exposed skin below your collarbone with hardly any pressure that you might have thought you imagined if you hadn’t been watching the whole time. 

“You’re not selfish,” she says finally, “I stayed because I don’t care. And you stayed because you do care.” 

Your eyes fixate on a suddenly very interesting crack in the plaster on the ceiling, to stall yourself from having to say anything in response. 

Finally, you feel Annie’s eyes land on you. 

Your reaction is delayed, but finally your face scrunches up in disagreement. “If I pretended to be asleep until everyone except for you left the room, what makes you think I care about helping Ymir and Krista?” you stall. 

“I didn’t say you cared about Ymir and Krista.”

Your face turns red. “Wh-what?” 

Annie is rarely so direct, and it catches you off guard. You begin to stutter out a bullshit response, but your voice quickly falters in your throat. 

Her fingers press into your skin, and you hope she doesn’t say anything more. Her eyes have a vacant expression, and you remember the times when they were invaded by a malice that you couldn’t accept came from her. You panic when she begins to speak, praying that she won’t cut this moment short. 

Instead, blessedly, Annie speaks with a pressing tremor in her voice. “You stayed because you care about me?” 

Though you are relieved by the direction this has gone, a wave of panic washes over you regardless as you are forced to confront and communicate emotions that you’re terrified to share, and with her especially. 

“W-Wha—“ you sputter. Your mind goes blank and you struggle to find an appropriate reaction. “I just — Mostly I —“ Cold fingers tighten in the fabric of your nightshirt. 

“I’m glad you did.” Annie interjects suddenly. 

After a few seconds and a deep breath, she speaks again, but does not look at you. 

“And I’m glad that you care about me.” 

Stunned silence fills the room. All you can hear is the sound of your own heartbeat and the blood rushing in your ears. Words evade you, so you cradle her into you, and pull her closer to you still. Her hips settle against yours, leg wrapped around yours and her hands against your chest. 

Her lips tremble against the hollow of your throat. They are pursed as to speak, but with this hesitancy, you know that words won’t follow. 

Finally, you break the silence.

“I do care about you. A lot,” you tell her, and clutch her as her chest begins to shake. A tear rolls across your skin. “But you don’t have to say it back.” 

“It wouldn’t make you hate me?” Annie quakes, fighting back a sob. 

You resume rubbing comforting circles on her back. “No,” you admit. “It wouldn’t.” 

Several long beats pass, and wishful thinking tempts you to believe she might accept what you said. 

Her voice is low and bitter. “Maybe you should.” 

Initial shock locks your muscles up, but when you regain autonomy, you pull away so that you can look at her face. 

“Stop, okay?” you demand, and you yourself choke back tears, “I care about you, and I’m going to hug you until you realize it!” 

You pull her into your arms once again to cradle her, and she actually does relax into your embrace. Your instinct is to squeeze, but you fight the urge and instead bury your face into her hair. 

After a few seconds, her breathing evens into a more regular pattern. 

“I’m sorry,” she mumbles, muffled, into your chest. You shake your head in response, to refute her apologies as you always did. 

“You didn’t do anything.”

Now Annie shakes her head. You tighten your hug around her for a moment. 

Thankfully, she doesn’t argue with you anymore, and lets you stroke her hair without complaint or resistance. You kiss her forehead, and Annie grimaces slightly from the overt affection, but pushes her cheek against your lips before kissing you back on the mouth. 

After a few moments of silence, a calmness sets in over the both of you. Your grip relaxes from around Annie’s shoulders, and as you move away, she shifts to lie on her back. 

Her head rests on your extended arm. Your head rests on the shoulder of the same arm, and you gaze at her adoringly. Though her face remains mostly void of emotion, you can see a different look in her eyes than before. 

“What time do you think it is?” Annie asks, gazing at the ceiling. You look back at her, your chin propped up on your hand while you balance on your elbow. 

“Does it matter?” you respond, “We’ll be alone for hours with this storm.”

“Good,” she whispers, and her eyes flit back to lock with yours. An involuntary blush tints your cheeks. “You’re stuck with me.” 

You smirk mischievously, and prepare yourself for a reaction. “I’ll need a rescue team once you’re done with me.” 

A rare smile twitches at the corner of Annie’s lips, and relief mixed with triumph. 

“You’re an asshole,” she quips. 

“I guess that's why I stayed here with you,” you joke, and she pokes your cheek hard in retaliation for the remark. You sputter out a giggle. “Is that not what you wanted to hear?” 

She shrugs. “There’s nothing specific that I want to hear. You’re just mouthy.” 

“Would you rather that I don’t say anything?” 

“Only if you want to,” Annie says, and her voice trails off. Her face falls, and she looks almost sad when she looks back up at you, “I just don’t want you to leave.” 

“I won’t,” you assure her. “I’ll stay here with you.” 

Annie’s arms tighten around you. She doesn’t say anything, but the way she lets her body go limp in your embrace tells you everything that you need to know. 

She pulls the blankets up to cover your shoulders, and pulls you down into a kiss. 

A small nod, and she rests her hand against the back of your neck. 

“Thank you.”


	2. Together Alone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now that you're comfortable, it becomes much more worth your while to have stayed with Annie. This is the smut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is way longer than i meant for it to be, but i couldn’t leave any of it out, and you’ll get it when you read it. it was gonna be emotional from the start but i went off the deep end with it and really fucked myself up. fanfic, or a love letter to a fictional character? you decide! 
> 
> i'm begging for feedback. i want to write more like this but i don't want to scream into the void. pls share your thoughts ♡
> 
> https://youtu.be/SU6KFnGF9M8

Silence fills the room much as the cold does. It hangs low to the ground, sweeping along the wooden flooring to wisp at the edges of the blankets covering your bodies. The rippling fabric of the curtain scatters the moonlight across the bunk bed beside you, though the one you lie in remains shrouded in the shadows. 

A few fine strands of Annie’s hair catch the moon’s reflection, and thin white-gold streaks shimmer through her hair like the tails of comets. In her eyes shine swirling plumes like space dust littering the cosmos, shades of blue mixing and twisting into an icy blue void. Her fingertips ghost down your neck, and though her touch is gentle, you’ll feel the impressions long after they’ve left. 

She shifts so that she lies on her back, and her hand runs over your collarbone to grip your shoulder. You readjust and stretch your arm around her waist, only to have your hand deflected by Annie’s. You give her a look, which she avoids to wrap her fingers around your wrist and tug your arm softly. 

Annie doesn’t speak, but she doesn’t need to when she guides your hand beneath her nightshirt. 

You inhale sharply as your hand presses flatly against her stomach, your fingertips grazing a jutting hip bone. In surprise, you try to yank your hand away, but Annie’s grip tightens on your wrist. Your gaze meets hers nervously, and you feel your fingers involuntary begin to shake as they brush against her skin. 

Hard abs flex against your touch as your fingers slowly wander up. Annie releases your wrist to yank up her shirt, exposing one breast at a time. You exhale nervously, glancing downwards at them. Only once before had she let you see this much of her -- while you had snuck out behind the dormitories late one night, and things got hot and heavy. You had been even more flustered back then, and nearly too caught up in your excitement and self-consciousness to fully take them in. Not the way you wanted to. That night, you let your hands do most of the exploring, and you had every intention to do the same now. 

You push the fabric of her shirt up to her shoulders, and she raises her arms above her head to free herself from the garment entirely. It falls out of sight to the floor, and you take in the sight of her bare shoulders and sharp collarbone, and the way the light casts across them. 

She looks delicate and small, though you know full well that she is not. She reminds you of this strength when her fingers tighten into the fabric of your shirt, the same military issue nightwear she had just stripped away, and uses it as leverage to yank your body against hers. The motion jump-starts you into action, and your hands wander to rove over her skin. 

Her hips narrow and her waist dips inward as your hands skate up her sides, and your fingers travel over soft, chilled, yet pliable skin. The softness contrasts the hard layer of muscle beneath its surface, which ripples as she squirms beneath you. Your fingers graze over the slight depression between her bottom few ribs. 

Annie’s breath hitches as your fingers reach the sensitive skin along the underside of her breast. Your thumb rests against the base of her sternum, and your pointer finger traces up around where her breast swells. Another small gasp from Annie, and she tugs your shirt hard. 

Slowly, you let your fingers slide up to cup the side of her breast. Your thumb swipes along the other side to hover above a rosy nipple hesitantly. 

Annie breathes in with more air than usual, and you could have mistaken the noise for one of protest if it weren’t for the longing in her eyes. She looks at you expectantly and nods again. 

“You can touch me,” she says. 

Your hand trembles, but you finally do. Your thumb brushes against the bud of her nipple gently. Annie breathes in, but otherwise doesn’t react, so your forefinger joins your thumb to encircle the entire bud. It wrinkles at your touch, and your fingertips drift against the unique texture of the thin-skinned, silky pink skin. 

Head dropping just millimeters above her skin, you plant a kiss just below the bump of her breastbone. As gently as you can, you tweak the nipple between your fingers, and Annie shivers beneath you. 

You find the courage to look at her again, and your heart skips a beat when you see her heavy-lidded eyes already staring into yours. Her lips are slightly parted, and her bangs are messily splayed across her face. She nods, her eyebrows knitting together in earnest. 

You turn your head to the side to gently run your tongue along the hardened bud. She gasps, tugging gently on your shirt. Your tongue swirls around it once, twice, before your lips close over it. 

Careful to cover your teeth with your lips, you use your tongue to suck. Annie certainly reacts, and it almost feels like she’s stopped moving entirely, even breathing. Her feet twitch beneath the blankets, and her hand that clings to you pulls your shirt hard, yanking the collar askew to strain the fabric against your neck. Your tongue swirls around again. 

“Aah,” she moans quietly in your ear, and immediately her hand releases your shirt to slap against her mouth. “Mmhm...”

You can’t help but smile at the sight of her flustered expression, and your tongue pushes her nipple out of your mouth to let her know: 

“You don’t have to keep them quiet.”

Annie just stares at you, and does not move her hand. She doesn’t look like she’s completely closed off to the idea yet, so you press on. Your fingers tweak the nipple between them, and Annie stifles another noise into her palm. 

You pout. “No one is around but us, and I want to hear. Please?”

Unsurprisingly, she doesn’t say anything, but her gaze sears into you with a combination of irritation and reluctance. She won’t say anything, but she’s demanding enough that you know what she wants you to do. 

“Okay,” you mumble, and take her nipple back into your mouth. 

Now that your tongue is at work again, you release the nipple from between your finger so that your palm braces against her rib cage. Annie’s back arches, and she leans into your touch. Your fingers trace the indentations between her ribs as her torso stretches in your arms.

You can’t resist the urge to break away and kiss the center of her chest, slightly beneath her breasts. A strangled gasp escapes Annie’s lips as her hands fly to grasp your hair, and while her guard is down, you take an opportunity you might not get again to elicit a reaction. Your lips close around the tiny pink bud. 

It works, and a tiny moan bubbles up from her chest. She gasps, brow furrowing as she hisses at you. It only takes a moment for Annie to compose herself, but once again is quickly lost to the sensations of your mouth and your hands running over her. 

She squirms into you, thighs shifting against each other in an agitated manner. Her forehead wrinkles, and for a moment you falter as you notice that she looks genuinely shaken, so you pull your head up to press your forehead against hers. 

You want to wrap your arms around her and bury your face in her chest. You want to kiss her gently, and hear her moan into your ear while you hold her close. Intending to stumble onto your knees, you begin to rise up. Then, she looks at you, and you stop moving whilst all thoughts are wiped from your brain. 

Endlessly blue eyes meet yours, and she looks more beautiful than you’ve ever seen her in that moment. Her lip catches on her teeth nervously, and her gaze flits between your eyes and your hands on her. You kiss her on instinct, and she returns the embrace shyly, but longingly. 

A soft  _ hmmm _ vibrates from Annie’s throat, and she allows you to deepen the kiss. Your hand squeezes her breast. The tips of your noses bump together when you turn your head, and you puff a few strands of hair away (hers, you’re pretty sure) from where they sat stuck to the side of your mouth. 

One of her arms shifts to reach between you, and three of her fingers slip beneath the waistband of your pajama pants. Her forwardness is surprising, and, invigorated, you lean into her touch as her fingers skim your lower back. 

Annie breaks the kiss to look down between you, and reaches to tug the pants down to expose your hip. Fumbling, you scoot away from her, and yank the other side of your pants down yourself. She focuses on struggling with her own bottoms. You give her space, and help her lift her hips to get them out from underneath her. 

Momentarily you free yourself from the blankets to slide your pajamas down your leg and onto the floor. Annie hands you hers as well, and a bright red blush spreads across your face when you notice her panties are bunched up inside of her flannel bottoms. 

You glance at her nervously, and though she is underneath the blankets, it dawns on you that nothing but the two thin military-issue blankets stand between you and her fully naked body. Blankets that you very much intend to get back underneath. 

She peers at you from below them, pulled all the way over her chin and mouth. 

Her eyes crinkle, and though you don’t see half of her face, you can tell she’s annoyed. Your entire face and even your ears burn so hotly that it feels as if they are steaming against the chill of the room. 

Yet you slide your own panties down from around your ass and let them fall down your legs to the floor as well. You slip underneath the blankets again to hover just inches above Annie’s body. One hand moves under her to rest between her shoulder blades, and the other supports your weight on the mattress. 

Annie’s legs spread apart as you get into position above her, and it sends a pang of heaviness straight between your own. You can feel your body being drawn to hers, but all at once, you’re terrified of touching her so intimately. 

A slender arm brushes your side as Annie reaches around your waist to pull you down against her when you don’t do it yourself. Her other hand rests against your jawline to pull you into a kiss. Your eyes flutter closed, and it’s the distraction you need so that you relax. 

The fingernails against your back scrape along the skin, but you hardly feel it as you let yourself be consumed by the feeling of your skin against hers. Annie leans her forehead against yours as you kiss, and your chests press together in a way that makes your gut heavy. 

Though it isn't the most comfortable position, it makes you feel oddly close to her. Just for a moment, you pull away to look at her again and see the pining in her eyes. You continue to rest your foreheads together again, and kiss the tip of her nose.

Both of you shiver (you more than Annie, in your nervousness) as your hips bump. Your right leg shifts up into the warm, slightly damp hair between her legs, and Annie squeaks the tiniest of noises out against your lips as her hips grind down. 

Immediately, you pull your knee back fearfully, but Annie throws her head back, brows knitted together and a wild look in her eyes. 

“No,” she whispers frantically, “n-no, don’t move it away.” Her hand scrambles for purchase along your back. She avoids your gaze, looking debased from her usual cold composure. 

“Please,” she adds desperately, quickly. A series of emotions flash through her eyes as she clings to you. 

Her hips roll to seek out the pressure you removed. Gently, you place your knee back where it had been. Warmth and wetness slide against your thigh amidst the wiry tickles of her pubic hair, and she lets out another squeak. 

Annie’s fingernails dig ever so slightly into your shoulder when she hooks her arm around you. The moment feels so surreal that you barely register the feeling, much less be hurt by it. Her hips grind into your leg, and jolts of electricity shoot through your abdomen as you feel her lips against your ear, breathing jaggedly and letting out an involuntary little “aah” that puffs against a strand of your hair. 

You shift your weight from the heel of your hand to your elbow and forearms, and the reposition causes your chest to smush against Annie’s breasts. Eyes drifting to meet hers, you’re relieved to see that she looks disheveled and sheepish. Heavy lidded eyes slip shut, and she cranes her neck forward to mash her lips against yours. 

She breathes hard through her nostrils, and kisses you even harder when your thigh slides against her in a particularly nice way. Her fingernails rake down your shoulder and she squeezes your arm in hers. 

Annie’s hips buck against your thigh, and you can feel her legs scrambling on either side of you for purchase on the mattress. When her feet stabilize, she uses the momentum to speed up the thrust of her hips. 

She breaks the kiss to look at you again, and it feels like she’s staring into your soul. You shift your thigh harder against her, and her eyes widen. Her eyebrows knit together, and indecision flickers in her demeanor. Her hips continue to buck against your thigh, but soon her hips squirm side to side. 

“Mppfhh,” Annie groans, and doesn’t even give herself time to relax before she pushes on your shoulders, “lay down.” 

“Wha-?” you start, and ease up. Before you can say much, Annie is wiggling out from underneath you. 

“Get on your back,” she instructs, “I want to be on top.” Despite the forwardness of her words, she seems uncertain as she fumbles to push you away from her. 

“Oh, ok,” you say, and let her guide you into the same position she had just lied in moments before. The sheets are still warm. 

Annie flips the blankets so that you are both covered still, and a whoosh of cold air in the process makes the both of you shiver. 

“Good,” she mutters when she adjusts it around her shoulders. She places a long-fingered hand on each of your knees parallel to each other. 

“What are you going to do?” you ask, wide-eyed with your heart thumping. 

“Um,” she says, face blanching as she looks away, cheeks burning red. “I was going to get on top,” she repeats awkwardly. 

“You said that,” you point out. 

“Yeah. And?” Annie counters, and pushes your knees apart. You do not resist, and let them slide apart with ease. 

“I want you to say it,” you mumble. 

“What? Shut up,” she retorts, freezing, and her nose and cheeks darken to a deep shameful red. Her fingers dig into your skin.

“It’ll be good,” Annie flushes, looking off to the side, “Just put your legs up, okay?” 

“Okay,” you say, even though they’ve been up and spread above you, “they’re up.” 

Your legs are pushed farther, almost toward your shoulders, but before the position becomes uncomfortable her fingers circle around your ankles. The muscles in your thighs stretch as they fall apart further still, and your hips press against the mattress. It leaves you completely on display to her, and if her grip wasn’t so firm you might have snapped your legs shut self-consciously. 

You feel exposed and hyper-aware of the way she stares down at you. She repositions her legs so that her knees are tucked between yours and the mattress, her pussy hovering just centimeters above your own. Your legs settle loosely over hers when she finally settles into position. 

Her iron-clad grip shackles your legs in place, and her hips against yours pins you down -- not like you would dream of freeing yourself from a situation like this. She lowers herself down onto you, and presses her warm, wet pussy right on yours. 

It feels like you can’t breathe until she moves against you, and when she does, it’s agonizingly slowly. She slips back and forth, gasping and her hips stuttering as she finds a pace and an angle. Pleasure curls in your gut as she slides against your clit. 

“Oh,” you gasp, “ah, wow.” 

“Yeah,” Annie nods, and her breath hitches as she bucks forward a little harder, “I told you.” 

“I -- I didn’t have any doubts,” you pant. You aren’t sure if you do it on purpose, but your hips are moving against hers.

“Good,” she says, and accentuates the comment with a well-angled slide against your clit. 

All the air is sucked from your lungs as another, and then another slippery thrust robs you of any agency you might’ve had. You give in fully to the motions that she rocks into you, the pressure of her hands, and the weight of her body shifting above you. 

She bites her lower lip as she looks at you from above. Again, the moonlight shines against her hair white-gold, and now that strands stick out every which way from being pushed against the pillow, the rumpled glowing wisps frame her face haphazardly. Her eyelids hang low, and cobalt irises roll to meet yours. Her expression is lustful and heady, and there isn’t much emotion behind her eyes beyond wild desire. 

As she moves, more and more wetness gathers between you. You assume it’s from you, and you’re humiliated until you notice that Annie looks just as embarrassed by it as you feel. Her hips jerk in a regular rhythm, but every so often an erratic thrust would stir something deep inside of you. 

Her fingers tighten around your ankles as she pushes herself onto the balls of her feet. Your own poke out of the sides of the blankets as your legs dangle in the air, and although you are vaguely aware of the chill creeping in, you don’t care. 

The new angle lets her thrust with more precision, and with the slickness between you, it becomes an easy feat. Electricity rockets from her into you, and your abdomen feels tight. Annie huffs, and lets her head fall between her shoulders. 

You gaze up at her reverently as her chest rises and falls, her eyes slipping closed as her brow furrows in concentration. Her breathing is so hard that it borders on sounding like little noises of pleasure, and as you take in the sight, you bite your lip so hard that you taste copper. 

Only when you gasp for air do you realize that again, you hadn’t been breathing. As soon as the air fills your lungs, it rushes out again with each of her thrusts against you. Your toes curl, and your hands grasp the sheets, the flesh of Annie’s leg, and your own side before you wrench it free from underneath its prison of limbs and cloth. 

She’s still too far away to touch, and even if you wanted to, as your arms are trapped somewhere underneath Annie’s shins. You want to kiss her, to yank her into you and feel the embrace of her strong arms around you. But when she thrusts into your clit again, pleasure washes over you like a wave crashing to shore. 

You settle for digging your fingers into the flesh of her forearm, still tense as she uses it for leverage and balance. She rocks against you with increased force, and quickens her movements into you for a few seconds before she slows her pace, grinding into you slowly and deliberately. 

Annie cracks her eyes open just enough to shoot you a glance, but it’s enough that it sends you over the edge, and something inside of you unravels. Pressure unfolds in your gut and you feel yourself pulsing against her as you come. Her thrusts against you triple in sensitivity, and your hips undulate against hers. 

You want to disappear, and have the bed swallow you up. You cannot believe you came so quickly, with so little effort. Your cheeks burn, and you look away. 

Annie doesn’t stop, or even slow down, and it causes you to hiccup with every oversensitive thrust. White-hot pleasure curls up in you, and it’s almost too much. You aren’t going anywhere, so you just look up at her helplessly and shudder. 

Finally, Annie’s hips stutter, and she gasps, then slows her pace. She takes a moment to breathe, and you use the chance to reach for her hand. 

“Annie,” you murmur, pulling at her fingers around your ankle, “hey, Annie?” 

Her hips stutter, and slow down as she stares at you wide eyed in surprise, breathlessly, before she comes to a complete stop. 

“Too much,” you tell her, “Can we--?” You pry two of her fingers off your right ankle. 

“What?” Annie says nervously, freezing in place. Her hands fly away from your ankles, and her knuckles press to her lips, “I thought you liked it.” 

The pressure of her hips instantly lifts off of yours, and your legs fall off to either side of her lap. 

Her eyebrows knit together. “Am I not doing it right? I -- I thought…” 

Gently, you touch her wrist to catch her attention. Your face feels like it’s on fire. You lift one leg to bring them together, and shift so that you aren’t between her legs anymore. Leaning on your elbows, you look up at her. 

“You d-didn’t feel me come?” you ask meekly, mortified. 

A beat passes. A horrible, agonzing beat. 

Annie’s eyes widen as the realization hits, and she looks down at your crossed legs, then sucks in a quick breath. The corners of her lips twitch up into a ghost of a smirk. 

“When I...?” she looks back to you quickly, then to the space between you and swallows. For a few long seconds, it looks as if she is still processing your words. 

Eventually, she blinks, and utters a quiet: 

”Oh.” 

She sits beside you and touches your arm. Your heart pounds in your ears at the cool of her fingers. You glance up to notice that she’s looking away, blushing, and you place your hand over hers. 

“So I was doing it right?” she asks after a few seconds. 

Sincerely, you nod. “Very much so. I didn’t mean for you to stop.” You try to peer around to see her face. She doesn’t turn, but her fingers squeeze your arm. 

“You said it was too much.” 

One of your arms snakes around to grip her shoulders, and she readjusts her chin to sit atop your fingers. Your thumb strokes along her cheek. 

“Let me try something else then,” you suggest, and nudge her so that she looks at you. 

She turns her head, but keeps her chin tucked to her shoulder shyly with her hair falling across her face. Her eyelashes flutter, casting shadows on her cheeks as she looks off into the distance. Finally, she lifts her eyes to meet yours. 

Though still coy, she looks at you with a yearning look about her, and without a word or motion gives you an answer. You reach across her body to place your hand on her hip. Lightly at first, your fingertips graze her skin. Annie shifts to welcome you, and your hand wraps around her muscled hip. 

Not breaking eye contact with her, you flip around to face her as you grab her other hip to pull her farther down the bed. Soon after, you yourself sink further down; your hands wander down over her ass to caress the backs of her thighs. She lets them fall apart loosely.

“Uh, can… I?” You steal a quick glance up, to make sure. 

Annie bites her lip in anticipation and she nods her head vigorously. Her face is gently illuminated by the pale light of the moon as she looks at you with longful eyes that shine clearer and brighter than the noon sky.

When you break away from her gaze, you focus on the task at hand. You sit on your elbows, and lightly trace your fingers along the back of one thigh with one hand while the other presses against the inside of the other. 

Her thighs are muscular and well-defined, but still soft enough in them that your fingers sink into her flesh delightfully. 

Annie sighs when your thumb makes contact with her, and the way it slips against her clit with no resistance reminds you that she’s ready for more. She doesn’t give you time to take initiative before she reaches down to spread herself open with her fingers. 

Although she doesn’t form words, she whines and pushes toward you, and it’s all you need to move into action. You hold her hips in place, and it feels surreal when you finally lower your head between her thighs to press your lips and tongue against her. 

Soft ministrations elicit no reaction, so you stiffen your tongue to lick her more directly. Though you have little idea what you are doing and it’s overall still very new, it seems to be going in your favor when Annie’s breath hitches in her throat. Her hips twitch in your hands. She certainly has the strength to break free of your grasp if she so desires, but she holds her hips in place rigidly, almost trembling. 

You let your tongue wander against the same places that made her gasp and moan minutes before when she had you beneath her. You flick your tongue across her clit, and try rolling it more softly. When you curl the tip of your tongue around her clit, she gasps, so you do it again. 

Her thighs tremble within seconds. You mix up the movements so that it isn’t monotonous or overstimulating, and take notice that the one curling motion seems to be a particularly disarming tactic. Annie’s breath seems caught in her throat; all you can hear is her ragged breathing, and occasional uneven huffing. 

When she begins to squirm underneath you, you let your tongue drop from her clit down to trace around the edges of her soaking wet slit. 

One of her feet twitches, and she jerks her hips away with a gasp. 

“Sorry,” Annie whispers, panting, “I didn’t expect that.” 

“I’ll stop,” you offer, and loosen your grasp on her. 

“No--!” she interjects, and scrambles to sit up on her elbows. You look up at her. 

Face flushed and eyes filled with a roaring need for something she struggles to communicate. Finally, her lips tremble as she speaks. 

“You should, ehm,” she huffs, and it comes out more timidly than demanding, “you should do it again.” 

A beat passes, and you anchor your fingers into her hips to pull back into your reach. Annie lets herself fall backward. 

Without hesitating, you dive in. Your tongue laps between slick, warm folds, circling the entrance and dipping in ever so slightly before you go back up to circle her clit. She moans breathily, and a noise escapes her before she can cover her mouth. 

One of her feet braces against your shoulder, digging her toes into your skin. You try to ease into a rhythm, but she sets her own pace. Bucking up into you, she repositions herself so that your tongue sticks back into the opening. 

Your intention is to tease her, to dip just to where it tightens and prod the snug entrance at your leisure. But Annie clearly does not care for this plan, and redirects your rigid tongue inside of her more intentionally this time. 

She muffles a groan. The leg that isn’t next to your head is flung off to the side, giving you wider access. Moving your tongue inside her leads to another muffled delectation, so you stick it out as much as you can without gagging, and as deeply into her as you can manage. 

The hand against her mouth flies to grab a fistful of your hair. Your tongue flutters against her inner walls and with every lap of your tongue, slickness trickles over into your mouth. Annie’s hips twitch involuntarily, and she struggles to hold herself still. 

For a brief moment, you pull up for air. After sucking in a deep breath, you return to your exploration. Hastily, your tongue slips back inside the taut entrance and delves into warmth. Annie squeals, and her foot twitches. 

The muscles in her thigh ripple, and a soft whimper builds in the back of her throat as your tongue swipes along the inside of her. She cries out softly and arches her back when you hit a particularly sensitive area. 

Feeling brave, you pull your tongue out from inside of her to envelop her clit again, taking a gush of wetness out with you. Her heels nudge you closer still, so you twirl your tongue faster in response. Her free leg swings up to hook her knee over her arm. 

Outside air cools your skin as she kicks the blanket in the process, though at this point, it doesn’t bother you. Your tongue continues at the same pace and after a few seconds of holding her knee to her chest, Annie moves it parallel to her other leg beside your head. 

Her other foot anchors into your shoulder, and she balances all her weight you aren’t supporting with your hands onto where she sits on her heels. Your pace quickens to another level, and you curl your tongue around her clit the way she likes. 

A surprisingly girlish moan eks out from Annie’s throat, and her breath immediately hitches in surprise at her own reaction. Your tongue swirls around her clit, and the newfound wetness leaves her folds even more slippery than before. With every bump of your tongue against her, she reacts. 

Her thighs begin to tremble, and threaten to snap closed. You hold her securely, feeling her muscles straining, until she arches her back and digs her heels into your shoulders, feet twitching and slapping against you whilst kicking the blankets above your head. She spasms around your tongue and a gush of hot, slick fluid floods into your mouth. 

Stifled moans and whimpers tumble out of her lips and over her fingers, and a strangled gasp wracks her chest. She bites down on her knuckles to muffle the noises, but it doesn’t work, nor do you want it to. The hand in your hair pulls your head closer, and your tongue dances against her at full force until she bucks into your face, and accidentally pulls too far away. You pull her back in, and bury yourself in the same position to resume your task. 

At your touch, Annie’s thighs close around your head -- not enough to squish you, but enough to effectively stop every other movement besides the gentle flicks of your tongue against her jerking hips. She rolls them, and your vice-like grip on them isn’t enough to hold them to you. 

You move with her, and do your best to stay against her as she rides out her orgasm. The slickness causes your tongue to dip inside of her briefly, and though it’s gone as quickly as it went in, it pulls another sweet noise from her throat that unsurprisingly darkens her blush. 

Breathy moans escape her as she yanks a little too hard on your hair -- but you don’t complain. Her feet dig into your shoulders, though you hardly notice the pressure. Annie pants, then unexpectedly bursts into hushed, borderline delirious laughter.

After a few seconds, she finally lets her thighs fall off to the side. One hand still holds your head between them, and your tongue softens to run up and down her clit. Her breathing begins to even, and a small  _ mmmm _ vibrates in her throat. 

When the twitching of her hips calms to an intermittent tremble, you swipe your tongue up against her clit one final time, and lift your head fully. In the same motion, you wipe the wetness from your mouth and chin onto the back on your hand, and then wipe a little more out of your nose with your fingers. A handkerchief would be ideal, but you are not one to complain from between her legs. 

Annie’s feet touch the mattress on either side of your head, and the hand in your hair loosens, then smooths the disheveled tuft she pulled out of place. You glance upward briefly. Though she is quick to avoid your gaze, you do manage to catch a glimpse of the expression she had before she turns away, flustered. Her eyebrows were knitted together in pleasure, lips slightly parted with a blissful, faraway look in her eye. 

She’s still looking off to the side, biting her knuckles. Her nose casts a shadow across much of her face, but a sliver of light illuminates her profile enough for you to see her. Though she looks more composed than before, her face is still scrunched with emotion. 

Intending to give her all the time she needs, you press your cheek against her thigh to gaze up at her with moons in your eyes. Annie’s chest rises and falls more slowly, and soon she sits up to prop herself up onto her elbows. 

A moment passes before she looks at you again. As always, her gaze affects you. A feeling that draws you to her prowls within your chest, and a desire to give her anything overwhelms you. Just one look is all it takes; if she asked it of you, you would open a vein to bleed your heart with such little hesitation that it would dry within the time it takes for a single beat to lapse. Something behind her eyes melts away, and for once you know for sure that she can sense your devotion. Her fingers trace lightly along your cheek. 

Yet for a moment, those same sticky cheeks leave you worried that she might not want to kiss you, and so you are thrilled when she sits up to pull you in for just that. A dreamy sigh forces its way out of your lungs as you crawl up her body, and you feel the instinct to envelop her in your arms. 

You indulge this wish, and scoop her up to hold her tight while you kiss her. You can’t tell if it surprises you or not that she clings to you as tightly as she does, but you are surely grateful. The kiss only breaks when you gasp for air, and Annie turns away. 

Her hair tickles your face, but you don’t bother to move it. You kiss her jawline slowly and gently, pressing her body against yours as her breathing evens, and her heartbeat begins to regulate. 

You bury your head into her neck to feel her pulse against your lips. An overwhelming affection washes over you when her embrace around you tightens. 

“Are you okay?” you whisper into her neck. 

Her chin bobs against your hair as she nods. 

You only pull away from her to crawl to lay beside her more comfortably. 

“That seemed really big.” 

Annie sighs, and inhales deeply before she speaks, her voice far away. 

“Heh, that was the best thing I’ve ever felt,” she says, and giggles shyly -- music to your ears -- “and I’ve  _ got _ to do it to you, too.” 

You smile, your head growing dizzy at the thought, and nod. 

“I think I’d really like that.” You lift your head up to meet her eyes. 

The tenderness still lingering in them makes you feel at home in her arms, rare as it may be with Annie. Icy blue irises give way to a vulnerable look that you’ve seldom before seen. Though everything in you wants to kiss her again, you can’t bring yourself to do anything that might draw her gaze away from you. So rarely did she let you see her so intimately. 

For a moment, you are filled with the fear that she’s going to burst into tears, or cage herself in metaphorical steel before closing herself off to you completely. It wouldn’t be the first time that out of nowhere a tender moment was ripped from between you right at the moment you felt that she might let you in for good. 

Annie doesn’t cry, but her lower lip quivers. 

“I’m sorry--” 

“Don’t start,” you interrupt. 

Her eyebrows knit together. “I am. I’m sor--” 

“Annie!” you admonish, and she falls silent, biting her lower lip. She looks away. 

“Please,” you continue, and press your cheek against her collarbone, “Please don’t say you’re sorry. That was good, I’m glad that it happened, and I want to do it again,” you say. “Please don’t be sorry for that.” 

Annie breathes in deeply. 

“And you don’t have to say anything,” you add quickly, before she has the chance to do so, “I don’t want you to regret doing this. Or doing this… with me.” 

Her arms squeeze around you once again. 

“That’s not fair,” she says. Her voice is muffled in your hair, and it sounds like she’s fighting back tears, “you asshole.”

You’ve learned that she won’t answer if you argue, or ask any further questions, so you don’t even bother to ask for an explanation. 

“Just don’t apologize again.” 

Annie makes a noise that sounds like a combination of a dry laugh and a sob. Concerned, you look up at her to see the streak of a single tear running down her face to dampen her hair. You wipe it away gently. 

“And please don’t cry. Unless they’re happy tears.” 

She makes the face she makes when she wants to smile, but won’t let herself. You plant a kiss on her cheek. For the briefest of moments, you see her lips twitch into an actual smile, and her eyes soften. As quickly as it comes, it goes, and her eyes harden when her gaze flits away from yours. 

You stroke her cheek with the backs of your fingernails, gazing at her softly. Annie twists her hips to the side, and it leads you to you repositioning yourself to rest your head with her shoulder as your pillow. Both of her arms are still around you, and you bury your nose behind her ear where it smells the most like her. 

The familiar and exhilarating scent stirs emotions deep in your heart, and you feel as if it’s so full that it could burst. The rise and fall of her chest against your own feels more natural than anything you’ve ever known. 

You love her, but you can’t bring yourself to say it out loud. Things between you are comfortable as she lets them be, and you aren’t eager to scare her off with something she isn’t ready to hear. Sometimes it rolls to the tip of your tongue, and you have to tighten your lips to keep it from bursting out. 

But how could you be alone in this feeling when her fingers dig so deeply into the flesh of your arms? How could she not feel the same way when she still holds you so tightly to her even now that several minutes have passed? 

Annie takes a deep breath before letting out a deep sigh that drains her from head to toe. She goes limp in your arms, and allows you to hold her, to really cradle her to your chest. You hold her tightly against you while she keeps herself tucked into your embrace. 

You aren’t sure how much time passes before you move from that position. At some point, a distant door swings open and closed, and you hear voices beyond the hallway. Both of you rouse, and Annie lifts her head to look at the door, then to you. 

“They’ll still take a while to get warmed up and put everything away. It’s okay.” 

Her brow knits again, but she nods wordlessly and snuggles back against you. She strokes your sides lightly with her fingernails. You suppress a shiver, and instead focus on remembering every detail of the moment. 

The way her body fits snugly against yours, and how comfortable you’ve gotten with the weight of her body pressed against you... You’ve nearly forgotten how cold you were before. The skin beneath yours is hot to the touch, and the warmth that’s been generated underneath the blankets stays trapped beneath the covers. 

You commit to memory the way that her fingers trail along the sensitive skin above your ribs, and down next to your breast. You note the way she breathes slowly and evenly, and even if you can only see a sliver of her face when you look down on her, it’s enough that you notice that she’s smiling. 

Warmth blooms in your chest, and you kiss her forehead before pressing your chin atop her head. Emotion overwhelms you, and you draw her close. You kiss her head again. 

“You’re so embarrassing,” she mutters into your chest. 

Despite her comment, she returns your embrace as usual, and even buries her face further into your chest. 

You dread grabbing your clothes and ending the moment, so you are a bit relieved when the voices in the lobby of the building wander off in the direction of the showers and locker room instead of the dormitories. You decide to enjoy the warmth between you for a little while longer. 

Annie seems to have come to a similar conclusion, based on the way that she clings to you. Content, you settle against one another comfortably. 

Silence once again fills the room. But this time, the memory of the silent whispers traded between you plays on repeat in your mind. You capture this moment in your mind, with your chin tucked above her head with her entire body wrapped around you. 

The howling of the wind is gone. The moonlight streams to the ground uninterrupted as the snow falls to the ground in powdery sheets. One of your hand clasps Annie’s, and you find that finally, it’s warm. You grin, feeling accomplished, and wrap your arm back around her. 

And though you can’t see it underneath your chin where she lies curled up against your neck, Annie’s lips twitch upward into a tiny smile of her own. 


End file.
